


Castles in the Sand

by Kirathaune



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-10-28 11:28:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20777828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirathaune/pseuds/Kirathaune
Summary: in Dublith, young Ed and Al are training as apprentices under Izumi's watchful eye. Their schedule is busy, but in the quiet spaces between the lessons, sparring, and alchemy, Al sees reminders of what they've lost.





	Castles in the Sand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fandom_Trash_15](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandom_Trash_15/gifts).

"Edward! Alphonse! Time to get washed up and set the table for dinner!"

Al released his concentration on the castle he'd been been building in their teacher's front yard for most of the afternoon, and he laughed when it collapsed in a heap of sand in the center of his transmutation circle. He looked over at Ed, who was still hard at work on his castle. It was an impossibly tall mix of parapets and towers, and while it dwarfed Al's work in size, Al secretly though his had been the nicer of the two.

"Come on, brother," he told Ed, "you don't want to be late for dinner. Sig cut Teacher a giant roast this morning, and it's been cooking all afternoon. It's going to be so good!"

Ed heaved a great sigh and he let his castle go, jumping out of the way of the torrent of sand. "It was almost done," he groused as he fell into step along Al. "I wish Teacher had let us use dirt, or even wet sand. It would have lasted longer."

"I think that was the point," Al replied. 

The two boys brushed most of the sand off their shoes and clothes before they went into the house, and then they tromped up the stairs to wash up.

Al came down first, and when he reached the kitchen he fetched four plates from the cupboard. "Dinner smells really good, Teacher!" He set the plates on the table and went back for the cutlery. "We're really hungry!"

Izumi smiled at him, and then returned her attention to the bubbling pot of gravy. "I saw your castle," she said. "It was smaller than your brother's, though."

Al ducked his head as he set their places at the table. "Biggest isn't always best, right, Teacher?"

She turned back to look at him, a wide grin on her face. "That's right, Alphonse. Your castle had more detail. It was nice work."

The praise warmed him. 

"Both of you kept your concentration when I called you, as well," Izumi continued, bumping Al aside to set a steaming platter of meat and vegetables on the table. "Much better than last week."

Al scowled at her. "Last week you kept sneaking up and tickling us in the middle of everything! That wasn't fair!"

This time Izumi's smile had a sharp edge to it. "Life's not fair. You might as well get used to it."

They were interrupted by Ed noisily bounding into the room, and Sig's heavy footfalls soon followed.

Dinner in the Curtis household was always a bittersweet time for Al; more than any other time of the day, it reminded him of home... what had been home, anyway, before their father had left. 

Before their mother had died.

The memories were faint, but they were there. Their mother would fill their plates just like Izumi did, and the biggest plate would get passed down to the end of the table where their father sat. Al mostly only remembered golden hair in a long ponytail, a beard, eyeglasses, and a sad smile.

Sig was nothing like that ghostly memory--he ate with great gusto, showering Izumi with compliments on the meal, and asking the boys questions about their day. He worked long, hard hours, but on the occasional slow day he would come out of the shop and play with them. His tickles left bruises, but it was still great fun.

And Teacher... was Teacher. Hard, tough, and ruthless, but with a streak of tenderness that surprised Al sometimes.

"Alphonse, finish your dinner before it gets cold," Izumi chided.

He obeyed, not only because dinner was delicious, but because it would be insane to do otherwise.

After the meal was done, Al and his brother surveyed the aftermath of dirty dishes. 

"I think she used every pot in the house," Ed said as he carried his third armful of dishes over to the sink. "Every plate and bowl, too." He elbowed Al. "We should make new ones instead of washing all these, it'll be faster."

Al shook his head as he filled up the sink with hot, soapy water. "No way, Brother--she'd get really mad if we used alchemy that way."

"I know," Ed said, and he grabbed a dishtowel and began drying some of the clean dishes that Al was setting on the drainboard. "It's fun to think about it, though."

"It is," Al agreed. 

"You okay?" Ed asked. "You were quiet at dinner. Were you thinking of Mom again?"

"And Dad," Al replied, ignoring the anger that clouded his brother's brow. "It's hard not to think of them at dinnertime."

"Our old man was hardly ever home for dinner," Ed declared, slamming clean forks down with far more force than was necessary. "I'm surprised you can remember him at all."

Al gripped the soapy dishcloth. "I can, a little. And it was nice when he was there, when we were all there."

The anger left Ed as quickly as a summer storm. "I'm sorry," he said. 

Al handed him a clean pot. "Sometimes I think about Winry and Granny Pinako. It's been great staying here, but I miss them."

"Me, too." Ed quickly dried the pot and set it on the stove. "Teacher said we'll probably be done our training by winter, so we'll see them soon."

"Aren't you boys done yet?" Izumi's bellow rang through the house. "It's past time for your evening lesson."

They quickly finished up and hurried into the parlor.

As much as Al loved being outside, building crazy things like castles, sparring with Ed and Teacher, and running errands in Dublith, his favorite part of the day was after dinner, when they would all gather in the parlor and talk about alchemy.

As he usually did, Sig nodded off in the big chair next to the fireplace, while Izumi sat in her rocking chair and gave them problems to solve, critiquing their arrays and occasionally redrawing them on the slates she'd given them.

"I think that's enough for tonight," Izumi declared, handing them back their slates. "You both did well with the sand today. Ed, try and dial it back a little next time--nobody likes a showoff."

Al laughed when his brother pouted.

Izumi's keen gaze pinned him. "Alphonse, while your work was very detailed and careful, sometimes an alchemist needs to be quick. A beautiful wall won't hold back a river if it's not finished in time."

Al blinked; he hadn't thought of it that way. He remembered the rough mud barriers she had erected against a raging river when they had first met, which had been created in haste to meet the need. "I understand," he said.

"Good," Izumi replied. She poked Ed with a piece of chalk. "There are certainly times to go big, and there are times to take your time and make something with great care. There are times to get the job done in a hurry, and--" she waggled the chalk at both of them "--there are times when it is better to not use alchemy at all."

"Yes, Teacher," they replied in unison.

"Time for bed," she said. "Tomorrow you're going to figure out what to do with all of that sand in my yard, because I want it gone by lunchtime."

They said good night, then headed upstairs to their small room at the end of the hall. Two twin beds were crammed into the tiny space, with just enough room between them to squeeze in a nightstand, and they shared a small dresser at the other end of the room. After pajamas were donned and their bedtime ablutions were done, they plopped onto their respective beds.

Ed turned off the little lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The moon shone through the single window above their beds, bathing the room in pale, ghostly grays.

"It was cool, working with the sand," Ed said. "We had to think about it the whole time, even more than we usually have do."

"Yeah." Al held his hands up in the air, wriggling his fingers and watching the moonlight dance on them.

"Teacher was right, your castle _was_ nicer than mine."

"Yeah."

Ed threw a pillow at him. "You didn't have to agree so fast!"

Al tossed the pillow back to him. "So, Teacher said we'd be done by the winter, huh? That's not so far away. I'll miss Teacher and Sig, and our lessons, but I miss Winry and Granny more. They're our family."

"Mom was our family," Ed said, "and we're going to get her back."

Al shifted to face his brother in the dark. "Do you think we'll be ready when we're done our training with Teacher?"

Ed shook his head. "We've learned a lot, though. When we get home, we'll re-read all the books and notes again--and I bet that we'll understand a lot more of it!"

Al shimmied under the covers and gathered the blanket around him. "We will! And we'll do it, because you're the one who comes up with crazy ways to do things." He pushed his fisted hand toward his brother.

Ed's fist bumped his own. "And you're the careful one, to make sure everything's just so."

"Yeah!"

"Yeah!"

They bumped fists one more time and settled under the covers. 

"Good night, Brother," Al said, and he soon heard Ed's breathing change to the slow rhythms of sleep. He raised his hands again, watching them move like hazy ghosts in the moonlight. Would they really be able to bring their mother back? Al hoped so, more for Ed's sake than his; his brother was trying to be the head of their tiny family, and trying so hard to make up for the absence of both parents. 

His hands clenched into fists before he lowered them back into the dark. They would do it, he was sure of it.


End file.
